


Company

by BlushLouise



Series: Firm touches [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM themes, Established Relationship, Injury Recovery, M/M, non-graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushLouise/pseuds/BlushLouise
Summary: Bluestreak wakes up in medbay to find someone already there waiting for him.
Relationships: Bluestreak/Jazz
Series: Firm touches [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775221
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	Company

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zero_remains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zero_remains/gifts).



Bluestreak woke slowly. He still felt out of it, sort of disconnected from his frame. Which wasn’t that unusual, considering where he was, but he had kind of been hoping Ratchet wouldn’t have had to do quite so much work on him this time.

No such luck, apparently.

His optics onlined to darkness. Middle of the night shift, then. Which meant he’d been out… Yeah, a day and a half, according to his chronometer. That made sense.

Also, ow. He’d aim for Ravage first, next time. A little payback would be nice.

His systems at least seemed to be powering up as they should. Fuel level steady on 85%, which meant Ratchet had him on an energon drip. A lot of repairs to integrate, some fiddly, none dangerous. About what he’d expected.

He turned his head to say hi to his visitor.

“Ratchet didn’t let you stay the night here, did he?”

Jazz stopped pacing and smirked, that special expression he was so good at and that hid so many thoughts. “Course he didn’t. He hates me in his medbay, ya know.”

“And with good reason.” Bluestreak patted the berth next to him. “Come sit.”

Jazz hopped up on the berth, flashy and effortless and somehow managing to dodge all the wires and cables connected to Bluestreak’s frame. He flashed another one of those grins. “Accordin’ to Ratchet, you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

“That’s good.” Bluestreak raised a weak hand to Jazz’s sensor horn, stroking in tiny little circles. “I hadn’t expected anything else, but it’s good to know. Now, how much of a nuisance have you made of yourself?”

Jazz snorted. “Ain’t been that bad. Besides, if I didn’t give Ratchet a hard time he’d insist on checkin’ me up or somethin’.”

Ratchet really would. A Jazz that behaved? Ratchet would be really suspicious, and he would be right to be. Jazz hated medbay. He was infamous for only staying on a medberth if strapped to it, even if he was damaged from the neck down and could barely move a finger. Bluestreak had had to sit with him on numerous occasions just to get him to stay put long enough for the most critical repairs to integrate. And when Jazz wasn’t strapped down or under surveillance, he made Ratchet’s life really difficult.

He was always worst, though, when Bluestreak was injured.

“What did you do this time?”

Jazz chuckled and pushed into Bluestreak’s touch. “Might have been loud an’ obnoxious. But he wouldn’t let me stay here.”

Bluestreak gave him a pointed look. “You snuck back in, didn’t you? He threw you out and you snuck back in.” He sighed. “How many door locks did you break this time?”

“Just the one.” There was no trace of regret in Jazz’s voice. “And the other three might need some attention. As I said, ain’t been that bad.”

“Jazz.” There was mild reproach in Bluestreak’s voice. “Don’t make life harder for the medics. Or Prowl. Or Red Alert, for that matter. You know how he reacts every time he sees you sneaking around in here.”

“Is that an order?” Jazz sounded somewhere between cheeky and eager, and Bluestreak smiled.

“Not today. Let me get back on my feet first. Then I can punish you properly, if that’s what you want.”

Jazz purred, pushing into Bluestreak’s hand again. “Sounds good.”

“For now,” Bluestreak said, carefully adjusting the way his fingers moved over Jazz’s helm and coaxing him slowly downward. “Since you’re in here already, you might as well stay. If you behave,” he was quick to add, as Jazz’s grin was more than a little energetic. “I will get Inferno or Ironhide to carry you out of here if I have to.”

“I’ll behave.” Jazz lay down by Bluestreak’s side, curled up into a ball. “I do know how.”

“You do now.” Bluestreak smiled fondly. It had taken a long time to get Jazz to where he was actually behaving when Bluestreak asked him to. There was simply too much energy in his frame, to many contingency plans, too many tracks running simultaneously in his processor. Jazz got manic and destructive when he was idle, and it had taken a while for Bluestreak to figure that out. Even longer to figure out how to break him of it.

Seeing the Jazz now softly venting in a pile next to him, it was hard to see the same Jazz who’d sometimes all but bounced off the medbay walls.

Bluestreak liked it. He enjoyed watching Jazz feeling safe and comfortable.

“Recharge,” he whispered, one hand running down Jazz’s back. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

Jazz purred again and snuggled closer. “You get to explain it to Ratchet.”

Bluestreak rolled his optics. “One of these days I’ll let him have you.”

“No, you won’t.” Jazz’s voice was smug. “You don’t like sharing.”

Heh. That was kind of true. Scratch that, it was very true. “I really don’t.” He pulled Jazz closer. “Recharge, love. Then I’ll get better.”

Jazz nuzzled his plating and lay still. It was probably an act, but it was also probably the best Bluestreak could hope for, especially strapped down and damaged as he was. He would take what he could get.

And start coming up with a new excuse for Ratchet.


End file.
